Sunday, April 10, 2011

Unless... - NaPoWriMo 2/30

It’s like saying that
only the zebras grown
behind zoological bars
are true to the species.
Defining racial validity
by its most vacuous of elements,
elevating aesthetic while
nullifying character –
welcome to the zombified, automaton America,
land of the boastful slave.

Ghettoes get forced upon
their option-less crops,
and in return we forget
what it means to esteem,
claiming and praising this
domestic poverty, as if
struggle is a best-seller
and we retain all the rights.

Unless LaRog’s wealth winks among my teeth,
unless my wrist and collar coruscate in sunlight,
unless my responsibilities writhe beneath a luxurious, 4-wheeled whip,
I cannot be black.
Since I esteem endeavors and intellectual gain,
since I’d rather see things bettered than become litter in ignored gutters,
since I refuse to wear the shackles pandered to me in diamonds,
I must not be black.

Unless I let my race define me,
I cannot be black.
Since I’d instead define my breed,
I must not be black.

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